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Muchmore vulnerable than I liked, but the store’s finances weren’t my lane.
The look my father exchanged with Alan said alotwhile saying nothing, which was exactly what I planned to do as well. More than once, I’d warned about the dangers of leveraging too much, but it was always brushed off like I knew nothing, despite my flourishing personal portfolio.
Again—old school patriarchal bullshit.
“The difficulties of the market aren’t the problem right now. The rent is,” an unfamiliar voice spoke. I still hadn’t sat down, and quickly realized the high backs of the rotary chairs surrounding the table had obscured someone else in this meeting. I watched, frowning, as a chair near my father turned, revealing a handsome face that was only vaguely familiar, butsupremelyannoying, because — “Who the fuck are you?” I asked, the question spilling out before I could catch myself to deliver it in a more… personable manner.
The stranger’s full lips spread into a smirk as my father admonished my language choices.
“Sorry,” I said to my father,notthe man who looked a bit too self-satisfied for my liking. “Who is this and why is he here?”
“I’m your landlord, nice to meet you,” he said as he unfolded a much taller, sturdier body than expected from the chair and extended a hand in my direction. “Orion Sterling, CEO of Wholesome Foods, which… you have a background in corporate retail, right? So… I’m sure you’re familiar with Stellar Foods, the parent company.”
Who wasn’t?
Stellar Foods was an enormous company, with stores spread all around the country. They had more brands than I could count on one hand, at varying price points—big box stores, wholesale warehouses, and maybe most notably, organic supermarkets.
Which made them a direct competitor.
I looked at his hand, but made no attempt to return his niceties. “Uhh… good for you, but um… my family has ownedthis building and the land it’s on since before Blackwood was Blackwood, so… landlord?” I looked at my father. “What is he talking about?”
“I’m talking about—”
“Pleaseshut up!” I said, holding up my hand. I had to look up to properly glare at him, but I wasn’t backing down. He seemed shocked by my audacity, his head rearing back a little in response. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’mtalking to my father,not you.”
“Nala, baby girl, please treat our guest with some respect,” my father warned, making itmyturn for disbelief athisaudacity. He was the very reason I’d been declared “slick at the mouth” as a preteen, buoyed by his encouragement to always speak up for myself, to not be afraid of getting loud.
Now he was giving off this energy that was damn neardeferentialto some overgrown motherfucker who had to be my age or not much older. Certainly not someone we owed meekness to.
“Nala,” Orion said in a deep rumble as he took a step closer to loom over me. “What a nice nickname. I’ll have to keep it mind.”
“The hell you will,” I countered, eyebrows drawn together, unmoved by my father’s plea for manners. “Again,” I said to my father, completely turning my back to the man to make sure he understoodnorespect was coming from me. “What is he talking about?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but it was like the words escaped him, and speechless wasnotthis man’s default by any stretch of reality.
“Your mother was sick,” Alan spoke up, since my father couldn’t seem to bring himself to. “The family’s personal accounts were drained, and the store was failing.Fast.We needed cash. We needed a Hail Mary, so…”
“No.” I held up a hand and shook my head. “No. Absolutely not,” I declared, looking back and forth between him and my father, knowingdamn wellneither of them was about to confirm my worst first thoughts about what those words could mean. “You wouldn’t do that…pleasetell me you didn’t—”
“There was no other choice, everything else was drained,” my father finally spoke, his shoulders drooped distinctly low.
“Noteverything!” I hissed. “You never asked me, and I know you haven’t asked Soren, because he would’ve talked to me. We both have money—”
“Notthatkind of money,” he countered, sounding—andlooking—more defeated than I’d ever seen since the gravity of my mother’s illness really hit us.
William Stark didn’tlose, except back then, he had. We all had.
“How much?” I asked, nostrils flared, my chest feeling hollow as I spoke. “What number was so big we couldn’t get out of it?”
“Ten million dollars,” Alan answered. “Between the medical bills and trying to save—”
“Ten?!” I shrieked. “Ten?!That’s it?! We could’ve come up with ten! We could’ve asked the family, could’ve borrowed from friends, emptied the trust funds, and—”
“I didn’t want to drain my damnkids!” my father insisted, slamming a fist on the table. “What kind of man would that have made me?”
“Better than one who sold off my mama’s legacy—mybirthright—to our goddamncompetitorto what? Lease back from them?! Is that what’s been going on?!” I replied through gritted teeth. “Is this why you didn’t want me in the books?! Or better question,did she know you did this?!”
Whatever anger my tone may have incited was pushed to the back burner to make way for some other regrettable emotion on his face. “Of course not. I… couldn’t bring myself to tell her and she… never recovered enough to ask.”
